Blood of the Serpent
by Dagorhir
Summary: Hadrian Potter has always had the fortune of inviting misfortune to his side. When the Wizarding World's most poisonous, magical serpent finds itself in his care, he doesn't bother questioning why Fate seemed to utterly despise his very existence. When he realizes it's Lord Voldemort, he realizes Fate doesn't only hate him, but it's also psychotic and out to get him.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note**

There is a few things I would like to comment about. I do realize when parseltongue and the normal language come into a story, people have some kind of marking to show which is which. The way I work this is simpler for me. I use italics, but I have two forms. One is for thoughts, and the other for parseltongue. Below I list an example.

_What am I doing? _Hadrian asked himself. – This is him thinking.

_'Open,' _Hadrian hissed. – This is parseltongue. The difference is rather easy to see.

**Story**

Hadrian Potter always had the fortune of inviting _mis_fortune to his side. So when Arcadia's (Wizarding World) most poisonous, _magical_ serpent finds itself in his care, he doesn't bother questioning why _Fate_ utterly despised his very existence. When he realizes it's none other than _Lord Voldemort, _he realizes Fate doesn't only hate him, but it also has a sense of warped human bled into psychotic mannerisms and, undoubtedly, out for his blood.

It's times like that when he knows the muggle term FML is more than accurate.

**Warnings**

As hinted above, I do tend to favor Tom/Harry. So, yes, there _will be mentions of slash _in this. However, not every pairing will be that. Though Harry and Tom will be.

Also, for those who care to know - I name Harry 'Hadrian' in any written works. The reasoning behind this? James comes from a pureblooded family, and, while he did marry Lily, much of his upbringing is going to be there regardless. And, as far as names go, I cannot see Lily and James (given their personalities) naming their _child _Harry. For those who don't like it. You're not the only ones, I'm aware its not liked by some, so there isn't any reason to drop a flame due to his name. So please avoid doing so, because I've read it a dozen times already (from other sites, other stories, and all that).

**Disclaimer**

I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the books of the series. Therefore, I do not make any money off of this, and this fanfiction is written for enjoyment, and as a means to develop the skills every writer possesses. It is my hope that everyone enjoys the writing, and that those who do read this are as inspired by the world the author created as much as I was (which is quite a lot considering I'm writing fanfiction in the very world that she created).

Read, Enjoy, and _Review!_

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**Rating**: T

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There was _something _about coming back to Hogwarts that made Hadrian uneasy.

As he emptied his belongings onto his bed, he jotted the feeling down to the fact someone, _every year,_ tried to kill him. His Defense professors, for the most part, but there were others who were more than happy, more than willing, to try. As the raven-haired teen floated about his section of the dormitory, he idly wondered _where _the Headmaster found these people. Surely even those in a magical society had a way to go about a background check. Surely.

There was a stillness to the dorm, quiet and empty in the late hours of a day soon to change. As he slipped on his robes, his muscles loosened. Tension trained from his neck, and, as he set the last of his books on the table, his gaze focused on the black and purple wrist peeking out of his sleeve. Despite the numbing pain resonating through his core, Hadrian didn't think anything could ruin his day.

He was home.

Four years finished, the fifth begun with a war on the horizon. Home nonetheless. It brought out a ghost of a smile, and a sense of warmth flooded him. As he glamoured the bruises into an illusion of nothingness, he watched his skin mold back into a pale, milky white. The raven-haired youth smiled, and, with practiced movements, drowned a few pain-killers he had snatched from Petunia's kitchen before tying back his hair.

It was hard to believe, he mused to himself.

That, merely _five years ago, _he was a small and scared child locked in the dark. While _this _world has its own downfalls, it lacked a family with the Dursley name, and, for that, he could barely contain the rush of bliss that raged in his body at the thought. Even with everything that happened from day-to-day, even with that horrid woman in _pink_ he had spied as he slipped away earlier, he knew he could find _some_ form of enjoyment in the encroaching darkness of war. It was a new year. Even with the Ministry placing their noses into his home, unwelcome as they were, he knew there was little to be done.

_At the very least, she should be somewhat competent as a teacher. _Compared to many of the other professors before her, Hadrian prayed to Merlin that, as a Ministryofficial, she would have _something _useful to impart to the class. As he placed his invisibility cloak in the small dresser next to his bed, he had a feeling she would be as bad, if not worse, than the rest of the Defense professors that came before her. Adding the extra uniform into the dresser, he closed it and stood.

"Hadrian," The raven-haired youth turned, and carefully pulled his braid over his shoulder as he blinked at his friend. Ron stood in the doorway, and the redhead was silent, eyes sweeping over him, a frown marring brow and lips pressing into a tight line, for a moment before saying, "You coming down or what? Hermione is beside herself. Not to mention the _planner…"_

That alone brought a smile to his face. Hadrian followed Ron downstairs, and Hermione, hair wild and untamed, looked up before her gaze shot back to the papers she was reading. She addressed them without looking up, "I already have a copy of your classes, and a general idea on what each class stresses upon. Especially in Potions, given Professor Snape's general dislike for us."

She handed them a notebook each, Ron's a flaming red and Hadrian's black with green trimming. There was a small lion embedded under his name, still and immobile. His gaze shifted back to her as she continued, "I outlined the core objectives for you both, and I also added additional books you both should invest some time reading. I know the library has copies of all of them."

Next to him, Ron groaned. "Blimey, Hermione, really? A _planner?"_

The brunet's gaze snapped up, her eyes narrowing. "Do you _want _to pass your tests, or not?"

"Why _now!?" _Ron protested, eyes wide as he added, "Classes haven't _even started _yet, and you already have our days outlined! And how did you even get our class list when the professors haven't _handed them out!?"_

One trimmed, brown eyebrow arched. Hadrian shook his head, a small smile still plastered on his face even as his housemates laughed as she shot back, "Because I pay attention, you dimwit! If you paid attention in class, then I wouldn't _have _to do this."

"I pay attention!"

"Really? What was Lavender doing during the Great Feast?"

"Writing a letter…_hey!"_

The two were already nose-to-nose, and several others in the room where full-out laughing at the exchange. Hadrian turned his gaze to the notebook prepared for him, his gaze shifting over the time table on the first page before moving to the pages beyond. Defense and Herbology were outlined on the first two pages, each listing the current professor, and the books needed. He noted Potions was at the back, and thanked Hermione for her thoughtfulness on that matter.

_Ron should be glad that she puts them in order from our favorite to the one we hate most. _

He checked each of the books, mentally confirming each he bought was the right one, before checking the additional reading. Several drew a raised eyebrow, but one title in peculiar stood out to him: '_Old Magic: Before the Division of Light and Dark.'_

Hadrian glanced up at her. She was still arguing with Ron, her hands on her hips, and he smiled. He would check that one out first. He wondered what kind of useful information would be locked away within it, and suspected Hermione might have already read it. When she glanced up, she gave him a light nod, and he quietly returned to his dorm. The planner came to a rest on the small desk beside his bed, and the raven-haired boy's gaze shifted to the large widow above. Sunlight spilled into the room.

The day itself passed slowly, without much incident, and it was not long until he found himself wondering the grounds. Hagrid was missing, and the sight of the lone cabin was one that drew his attention. There were many good memories in that hut, though he doubted the spiders were one for Ron. The ginger-haired boy loathed them.

The Forbidden Forest lurked in the background, and, as he walked along the edge of it, the moon steadily rising over the trees, he felt at ease. He knew the centaurs were somewhere within, undoubtedly watching him, alongside countless other creatures. He was close to the lake when something else caught his attention, a slight rustle of parting grass, which was followed by a whispering voice.

At first he thought it to be the wind dancing among the trees, but, when it came again, he noted a distinct sound to it. Sibilant. Standing still, a stray breeze whipping at his robes, he turned so his gaze was on the forest. Nothing came forward, but the sound continued.

_'It would seem that luck favors me,' _Hadrian blinked, and his gaze swept over his shoulder. No one stood behind him, and, as he stood there, the voice continued, _'I had thought finding you would be far harder than this. Instead, you come unwittingly to me.'_

"For someone favored by luck," Hadrian mused aloud. The night was clear, calm, and, as his gaze swept across his surroundings, seeking out the speaker, he continued, "You make it seem unlikely by hiding from the person you hunted."

A sharp hiss answered him, and was followed by, _'Down here, you imbecile.'_

Hadrian's gaze dropped to the ground, and the sight was something that had him stumbling backward in sharp disbelief. He tripped over his own feet, and he landed, hard, on the ground.

There, strewn upon the ground, partly hidden in the deep grass, coils glimmering, was one of the largest snakes, aside from Salazar's basilisk, he had ever seen. It was massive, and, as he fell and landed on the ground before it, he wondered how something _that _size would go unnoticed even if it _was _part of the Forbidden Forest.

The upper part of the body lifted, the markings decorating its skin dull but flashing for a moment, a deep violet with veins of flashing silver, as it hissed, _'Finally where you belong, boy. On the ground.'_

Hadrian gaped at the serpent. While he had few friendly encounters with the serpentine race, those he had spoken to were rarely hostile. Nor had they been so conceited. With the way it rose to tower over him, its skin a mixture of white, violet, and glowing silver veins, it had an air of superiority about it. "I don't know who you are, my silver-skinned friend, but humans aren't _supposed _to be on the ground. Hence why we have _two _feet instead of _four."_

_'I can think of many reasons for a scrawny thing like you to be on all four.' _The serpent hissed, and its pointed face angled to stare him in the eye. It held his gaze for many a long moment before it circled him, one thick coil draping across his lap as it added, as if it was an afterthought, from behind him, '_Though why any would fancy you is beyond me. You have little to be desired.'_

Hadrian felt his checks flush as shock surged through him. Did it really just go there? A _snake?_ It was only a moment before they were eye-to-eye once again, thick coils draped around his body, and the two regarded one another in silence. The view of those eyes, like two smoldering suns encased in darkest ruby, accompanied by the pale complexion, was unnaturally familiar.

It took seconds for it to register.

The voice, the condescending tone it spoke with…he _knew _it couldn't be possible.

Yet he couldn't keep himself from uttering, voice low, "Vol-Vol-_Voldemort?"_

The serpent hissed, chin lifting higher as it replied, _'I see you are not as stupid as I had assumed. Though it did take longer than I first thought for you to piece it together.'_

Hadrian froze. It was the _only _thing he could do. With the massive man-snake wound around him, a rather stunning serpent despite the knowledge he had, he realized that, if the renowned Dark Lord desired it, moving would be impossible either way. Yet, as the two of them rested on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he idly wondered why he wasn't dead yet. Or why Voldemort wasn't in the process of constricting him to death.

"So…" Hadrian cleared his throat when those eyes focused on him, and forced himself to go on even with those eyes staring him down. "I take it you want something since you're here, and not with, you know, your followers. Or something."

_'How eloquent,' _The Dark Lord-Now-Snake hissed, attention focused, as he withdrew slightly. _'Yes, it would be something indeed. I have found myself to be in a rather unlikely bind, and it would seem you and I are going to have a little _talk.'

Hadrian was fairly certain he saw venom fling through the air when Voldemort spat the last word, and, while he was fairly certain a constructor couldn't be poisonous, he decided not to question it. He waited for the snake to continue, and, after a long moment, it did. _'I am in a bind. And I need your assistance.'_

"You're shitting me," Hadrian stared at the Dark Lord, a snake of an impossible size ranging from nine feet to eleven, as if he had grown a second head. "You want me to _assist _you after what happened in the graveyard? Seriously?"

Voldemort hissed. _'If I did not think I could sway you, I wouldn't be here.'_

"Sway me," Hadrian echoed. It had not been long since Voldemort returned, flesh and blood, and now he was here. As a giant snake. The dark-haired youth regarded the serpent in silence, and took note of his current situation. The Dark Lord was coiled around him, and moving seemed unlikely. Hadrian narrowed his gaze, green irises nearly glowing in the darkness, as he met those red eyes, and, after a long moment, he said, "You obviously want something, and killing me isn't going to get it done. So let's _talk."_

_'I need your aid, Potter.' _Voldemort hissed, the silver veins flashing angrily, body tightening a fraction around his. A warning, undoubtedly, and a reprimand. The thought of the _Dark Lord _scolding him for being rude had Hadrian scowling, but he listened as the snake continued, _'It would seem some of my followers lack more intelligence than you, and, due to their idiocy, I found myself like this. Without a way to turn back, it is only a matter of time before my forces take action.'_

It took a moment for him to gather his thoughts, but when he did, he asked, "Hold on a moment; are you telling me you're _stuck _as an overgrown reptile? And what do _I _have to do with this!?"

Voldemort reared back, fangs snapping down, as he hissed, _'Because you are the only one who can understand me, you fool! Unless you want them tearing down this school, and killing your precious friends, than you will help me.'_

Hadrian's eyes narrowed. "Last I checked, Hogwarts has defenses on it that are old and ancient. What makes you think I'm going to believe you? Or help you, at that?"

The serpent glowered. It glowered as much as a snake could, an expression the Dark Lord had already mastered in his new form, and it spoke levels of the man-now-snake's emotional status. The massive snake tightened around him, coils sucking his breath out of him, before it slammed him to the ground. Coils draped across his body, pinning him in place, as the diamond-shaped head filled his vision. Voldemort's voice echoed in his head as easily as it filled the air around him as the elder said, _'I know you well, boy. Better than most, I dare say.'_

Hadrian glared.

He knew a bad situation when he saw one. He wouldn't put it past the Dark Lord to kill him out of spite, given his history, and, as he was forced prone under the heavy body of the man-snake, he realized there wasn't _anything _he could do.

With the way Voldemort was staring down at him, crimson eyes blazing with power, Hadrian realized that the Dark Lord was using that to his advantage. The diamond-shaped head, a telling sign of a venomous serpent, something illogical his mind supplied, was directly before his. The long, pink forked tongue flicked his cheek. Resigned, he exhaled. "A bargain, then. I help you, and you help me."

Voldemort moved away, coils rubbing against worn clothing, and slithered across the ground. Hadrian sat up as the massive serpent circled, and rose the upper half of its body. The scales glimmered in the moonlight, the body swaying side-to-side, as they regarded one another in silence. Legs crossed and hands on the ground, he waited.

_'Indeed,' _Voldemort finally agreed. _'You restore me to what I once was, and I will help you with something you need. You need only name your price.'_


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note**

This is the second installment of the story. The first chapter came up a few days ago (three, I think), and I thought I would post this one now. Monday is coming up, and I have businesses to call and homework assignments to look over. Sundays are good, no? Anyway, this is the next installment, and I truly do hope you all are enjoying the way things are going. Sadly, it is hard to get an 'original' beginning with this sort of story. On with the story!

Read, Enjoy, and _Review!_

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**Rating**: T

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A price.

Hadrian slowly rose to his feet, his brow furrowed in thought, as he regarded the serpent before him. Not just _any _snake, but the _Dark Lord himself_. It was something he had to remind himself of as he regarded the massive serpent draped across the lawn before him. A wizard so powerful that people feared him. Someone with so much power that he was capable of doing anything, capable of being anyone. Yet he was here, before _him, _due to some unknown factor forcing him into the body he possessed now.

This was a situation Hadrian was unsure of, one which he did not know how to handle. Bargaining was something he knew little of, and, living with the Dursleys, it was easy enough for him to understand why. One didn't _bargain _with the Dursleys. Magic or no. Doing so had disastrous consequences, and he harbored many on his skin. There were others, unseen and forcibly forgotten. The partial reminder cut through his arm, a sharp pain muted seconds after.

He didn't know if Voldemort's current form was from a curse or a ritual gone bad. It was hard to tell, but, as he cocked his head to the side, he realized that was only one thing he had to find out. As of right now, he knew the chances of getting away were slim. A snake that size would be able to move faster than a boy like him could run. Even if he stunned him first, and ran second. With a Dark Lord lurking within the scaled body, he doubted he could escape through sheer luck.

Drawing in a breath, Hadrian said, "There are several conditions if I'm going to help you with _anything, _Riddle. That is _not _up to debate."

The man-now-snake hissed, silver veins glowing for a brief moment, but the Dark Lord didn't reply. Taking that as an indication to continue, the teen plowed on. "First, stop trying to kill me while I'm in school. There's enough drama going on each year without you trying to find some way to off me."

He paused, his gaze on the serpent, and watched as Voldemort swayed to the side. It took several long moments before the serpent finally asked, tongue flicking out and tasting the air, with a subdued hiss. _'For how long?'_

Hadrian furrowed his brow. "After I graduate. Two years, three counting this one. That leads to the second thing; Hogwarts will have complete immunity in the war. It's a school. What exactly can a bunch of eleven and twelve-year-old kids do to you? Tickle you to death?"

A sharp hiss answered the jab, but the Dark wizard didn't issue a reply to that. It didn't lessen the glare directed at him, but the serpent offered no objections to the demand. The teen's mind shifted to his friends, to Hermione and Ron and Sirius, to Luna and the twins and all the others he knew, as he said, "I want my friends out of the war. You won't single them out because they're close to me, or Hermione for being muggleborn. I want them safe."

_'And if they issue the first attack?' _Hadrian folded his arms across his chest, expression serious, as he replied, "If they attack first, then you have every right to defend yourself. However, if they choose to not be a part of the war, then you and yours will not attempt to kill them. Agree to these terms, and I'll help."

Hadrian felt the weighty stare, and the silence that spread out between them was unnerving. He knew the Dark Lord was turning over the conditions, most likely trying to find some kind of loophole in the terms, but he was content. He knew what he wanted.

When the minutes dragged on, Hadrian, biting back a sigh, edged the snake on when he said, "Take it or leave it, Riddle. It's late, and I want to get to bed."

The serpent hissed, but the fangs vanished. _'Very well. I accept these terms.'_

Around them, the air thickened and clamped down on them. Hadrian felt the magic surge into his being, hot and unrelenting, and drew in a tight breath as several bonds were forged. Around him, the massive serpent hissed. In anger or shock, he did not know. Despite the agreement being bound in place, Hadrian could not shake the awe of _who _was behind it.

Hogwarts.

The school was setting the terms in place, binding them to the agreement, for immunity. The land underneath them, and the forest shadowing them, as a second witness. Raw magic, untamed and wild, acted where the witnesses in a magical oath would. It brought a sharp grin to his face as he addressed the snake at his side, "Well, Riddle, it looks like you have to do this regardless of any objections you might find."

He turned slightly, his gaze roaming over the serpent, and cocked his head to the side. His gaze shifted back to the school before returning to the Dark Lord as he asked, "Uh, by the way…how am I supposed to explain you to everyone? I doubt anyone would take kindly to me if I told them the truth."

A sharp look was all he got in response. _'We can come up with details in the morning, but, for now, let us get inside. It is cold out here.'_

Hadrian eyed the massive serpent, and, after considering his options, said, "I have to carry you, don't I?"

A sharp hiss answered his inquiry.

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As it turned out, he _did _have to carry him.

Smuggling in an eleven-foot snake was no easy task. With the Dark Lord wound around his waist and shoulders, Hadrian realized getting to the Tower was far harder than he originally planned. Without his cloak, or the map, he realized anyone could be lurking about. It could be anyone, and he would have no way of knowing who they were, or where they were coming from, unknown they were upon him. He did not fancy meeting a professor in the hallway before the first day of class. Especially Snape. The thought made him shudder at the consequences of getting caught by _him _of all people.

Idly, he wondered if he should enlist Hermione's aid.

He didn't know anyone smarter, and he refused to ask the snake he bore through the halls for assistance. Instead, he crept through the hallways, keeping in shadow, and, when he finally stumbled upon the Fat Lady's portrait, he murmured the password and slipped inside. He ignored the bulging eyes boring into his back.

At the hour it was, he was surprised to see Hermione waiting up for him. She was sitting next to the hearth, one leg tucked under her, and her eyes were glued to a book she was reading. Ron, sprawled across the sofa, legs dangling off the end, snored quietly. His bushy-haired friend, however, glanced up when he came into the room, and nearly dropped her book in shock the moment she laid eyes on him.

"Hadrian," Her voice was a sharp whisper, and what little color she had vanished as she swallowed, "…is there a _reason _you have a massive snake with you? In the _Lion's _Den, at that?"

"Long story," Hadrian plopped himself in one of the seats next to the fire, gaze flickering to Ron who was still sleeping, as he said, "I found him outside."

"Found him?" She eyed the serpent, and Hadrian shrugged. He shifted in his place, and Voldemort moved his coils with a low hiss. "Well, he found me. Seems to happen a lot, to be honest."

The zoo before his first year, and the basilisk from his second, was reason enough. In both situations, he had found some way into encountering them close-and-personal, so he assumed the same applied for his current situation. He gently eased the snake away from his throat as he continued, "Honestly, I thought it was a bad idea to just let the big guy roam free. He sounded rather worn when we talked."

"Worn?" Hadrian nodded. He leaned back in his seat as he said, "Apparently there were some humans he came across, Hermione, which nearly _killed _him. Being a snake, the thought of him facing off a bunch of wizards wasn't something I even wanted to _think _about…"

The image in his head was more _students _than readied wizards, but it was the truth nonetheless. Hermione's gaze softened, and her voice was gentle as she said, "I understand. We should wake Ron, so that he knows."

Hadrian agreed. He watched as she roused Ron from his slumber, and the moment the lanky teen turned his gaze on Hadrian and his guest, Ron nearly came out of his skin. The redheaded teen _backpedaled, _toppling over the couch, as he exclaimed, "Hadrian, mate, there's a _giant snake _wrapped around you!"

"I hadn't noticed." Hadrian wryly commented as Voldemort hissed, _'Bright, that one. Real bright.'_

Ron was still pale. Shaking. The redhead swallowed, and, clearing his throat, said, "You don't get it…"

"Get what?" Hadrian and Hermione intoned, and Ron frantically shook his head. He looked between the two of them, the sofa between him and the serpent, and Hadrian felt his brow furrow. As if reading the confusion, Ron exclaimed, _"You really don't get it! _That ain't no normal serpent, mate. That's a lacrimosa! A _lacrimosa, _you hear me?"

Hadrian glanced at Hermione, and found her to be as pale as Ron. He glanced between the two, confusion swelling in him as he asked, "And what, exactly, does that mean?"

Ron slowly circled the couch and took his seat, eyes glued on the snake as he said, "It's _poisonous, _mate. Like, _poison _poisonous."

Hermione, her voice trembling as much as her body, swallowed. Hadrian could see the shock in her eyes, most likely at not being able to pinpoint the race of serpent right off the bat, as she explained, "A lacrimosa is the most deadly species of snake around, Hadrian. They're classified as Dark, and for good reason. Not only are they poisonous, they're known for their own form of magic."

Hadrian's gaze slowly turned to the ruby eyes staring innocently at him. _'You're an arse, you know that? How am I supposed to explain this?!'_

Across from him, Ron warded him away with his arms. Hermione shot the redhead a stern, disapproving look, but remained quiet as the serpent hissed, _'Given the fact we can speak, Potter, you have sway over what people think. Do use your imagination.'_

"W-what did it s-say?" Hermione's voice was light, and he could see her discomfort. Sitting, with his sworn enemy wrapped around his shoulders, Hadrian replied, "I asked him about the magic, and he stated he couldn't use much of it. Some kind of interference, he says."

He wasn't sure if that was true or not, but, given the tightening of the coils around him, he knew the Dark Lord got the message. What with the oaths in place, there was little the menace could do in regards of _harming _the students, or the staff, around them.

Which was a blessing, Hadrian knew.

A quick spell told him the time, and, with the next day sure to bring more complications and drama, he stood. He looked at his two friends, his voice gentle as he said, "Look, we can discuss this in the morning. For right now, I really need to get some sleep. All things considered, tomorrow is going to be hell."

Hermione frowned, but nodded. "Tomorrow, then."

He followed Ron upstairs, and crossed over to his bed. He dropped onto it, and, with the massive serpent uncoiling to make itself comfortable, he murmured, "Any idea on what to expect tomorrow?"

Hadrian went about donning his pajamas as the snake answered, _'I suspect Albus will take a great deal of interest in me. Tell him the same story. We can figure out the rest as we go along. Now go to sleep.'_

Hadrian, curtains spelled shut, didn't need to be told twice.

Even with the various bruises, glamoured as they were, throbbing with pain, the raven-haired teen was able to find a comfortable position to lay. With the snake being so large, he felt part of the body drape over his legs before the diamond-shaped head settle his hip. Staring at the serpent, its body sprawled across the bed, Hadrian released a steady breath.

The irony of having the Dark Lord in his bed wasn't lost to him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Note**

A few of you made a note of how the previous chapters are similar to another story. "A Snake Named Voldemort," if I recall the title. I have read it briefly, and, given that having a Dark Lord as a pet _snake..._I couldn't really think of any other way to bring the two together aside from the Forbidden Forest. A snake of that size isn't going to be able to sneak inside with ease...and him meeting the Dursleys, in a _muggle _world, seemed highly unlikely. Not to mention disastrous.

So I went for the Forest. I hope the similar introduction isn't too much of an issue. It wasn't my intention to do so, though I doubt any other semblances will arise.

Read, Enjoy, and _Review!_

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**Rating**: T

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He had expected the outrage, and the raw fury. It hurt nonetheless.

His House did not take well to waking to find a massive serpent in the dorm, and a murmured spell reflected the hexes that came flying. Several of the boys stumbled away, eyes wide, as Hadrian ran his hand through his hair. Voldemort, his grip impossibly tight around his waist, hissed as the markings on his body glowed vermilion in the dim light of the room. He absently reached up, and ran his hand down the cool scales of the behemoth snake as he regarded the others, expression neutral, as Ron, and Neville at his heel, spelled a protective wall between the outraged Lions and their target.

Seamus grit his teeth. Hadrian felt the spell building, and, as the wand's tip began to glow, the massive serpent reared up and the hiss, laced with magic, that came from him was loud enough to be more of a rumbling growl. Seamus Finnigan lost color, and backed up as Hadrian stilled. Ron, still pale and looking decidedly uncomfortable, swallowed but did not move. If Neville hadn't fainted, Hadrian would have found the scene to be a bit inspiring.

Instead, he found it to be humorous.

It was Dean who quietly ushered a seething Seamus from the room, and, as the two descended down the stairwell, he hissed, _'Not a morning person, Riddle?'_

"Do you _have _to do that in front of me, mate?" Ron asked as he hefted Neville off the floor and onto the bed. Hadrian regarded his redheaded companion with a light smile as Voldemort snapped, _'Y__ou surround yourself with complete and utter morons, Potter._ Morning has nothing to do with it.'

"Mate?" Hadrian glanced at Ron as Neville groaned, eyes fluttering open. Standing, snake wound around his body, Hadrian said, "Sometimes I forget that I shift into parseltongue when I'm talking. Part of the blood, I suppose. I hope Hermione has had some luck with the girls."

Moving from the door to the bathroom, he began his morning ritual only to pause midway.

What little desire to sleep vanished, erased as a titan snake stared at him with something akin to interest in its gaze. Those red eyes were intense, focused, and it was highly uncomfortable. Red met green. The Dark Lord regarded in silence for many minutes, and, after some time, drawled, tone seemingly bored. _'Not one of your roommates so much as thought of looking to see if you were well. Given your absence last night...'_

Green eyes narrowed.

_'There is also the issue of the glamour.' _

Hadrian froze. Clad in a loose pair of pants, stones spelled warm under his feet, he regarded the Dark Lord. The massive serpent easily unwound from his body, and slithered across the tiles. Upon rising, red focused on him. Unrelenting. Drawing in a steady breath, the young turned and stalked into a cubicle as he said, "They don't stalk my every movement, Riddle."

Hadrian wiggled free of his pants, and kicked them aside. "I'm more interested in how I'm supposed to _explain _your presence. To my _headmaster."_

The shower turned on, and the heat eased the tension. He lifted one arm, the glamour impossible to see unless one was looking for it. Beyond the cubicle, Voldemort was silent. Waiting, most likely. As Hadrian lathered his hair, the tangles spending sparks of pain through him, he added, "As for the glamour? I don't like people staring at the bloody Curse Mark you left me with when I was an infant. Prior to popular belief, I _don't _like being ogled."

He finished in record time, and donned his uniform. He gathered the massive serpent, and stilled himself as Voldemort wound himself into his robes. However, it would be impossible to _hide _him. The upper portion of the Dark Lord's body was wound around his shoulders, and the diamond-shaped head grazed his cheek before burrowing into his hair at the back of his neck. Hadrian trembled, and rolled his neck.

He slipped into the Common Room, and found the entire Pride waiting for him.

"Well, _this _is awkward."

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"What?"

Hadrian flopped onto the couch, Voldemort twined around him, as he regarded his curly-haired friend. Hermione was already dressed, uniform in perfect order, but the look on her face was confusion. He sighed. Running a hand through his hair, the loose strands sliding between his fingers, Hadrian repeated, "Why did Ron notice what species our friend here is before you did?"

"I _heard _the question, Hadrian." He blinked as Hermione huffed, and gave her his undivided attention as she sat up straight. "As for an answer? I've read about the various serpents of this world, due to you being a parseltongue, but none of the books had a solid answer to _what _a Lacrimosa looked like. Something about the few pictures they did have often resulted in the witch or wizard's death."

Hadrian's gaze slowly shifted to the massive serpent wound around him. Red eyes regarded him silently, and, after a long moment, his gaze returned to his friend as he said, "I suppose we should prepare for endless rumors. Again."

Hermione's gaze was one of symphony. Hadrian waved the emotion away, and leaned into his seat with a contemplative frown on his face.

The rest of the House was spread out about the room, eyes narrowed. He went about ignoring them, and, reclined in the seat by the fire, serpent sprawled across his torso, he could sense their thoughts as surely as he could feel the stones under his feet. Anger was the primary sensation, but none of the Lions were willing to put themselves into the temperamental snake's striking range. Voldemort nearly snapped a wand in half when it came too close.

_Moody bastard._

"I don't think _snake _is on the pet list, Potter." Hadrian slowly shifted his gaze to the seventh year teen standing a few feet, wand twirling between thin fingers. His gaze shifted to the eyes staring down at him as he replied, "And I highly doubt any of you would want to encounter a serpent of this species, magic or no, without someone who can keep him under control."

"You can _control _that thing?"

"Last I checked, I spoke the same language."

The teen lost color, but didn't back off. Hadrian didn't expect him too. He cocked his head to the side, a slow smile crossing his face. Hadrian shifted in his seat, and dropped his head onto Hermione's shoulder as he murmured, "However, if you really want to do something about him, I can't stop you. But I _can _warn you."

_"Had_rian," Hermione hissed under her breath, and stilled as part of Voldemort's massive body draped over her thighs. He felt her breath hitch, and, when he glanced out of the corner of his eye, saw her skin loose most of its color. Ron, sitting on his other side, had stopped trying to move the moment he became tangled in the coils. Neville kept his distance, but he did regard the situation with narrowed eyes. "He's not...going to bite me...is he?"

Hermione's voice was hesitant.

"Not at all," Hadrian patted her knee as Voldemort hissed, _'I'd rather not poison myself.'_

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Albus Dumbledore spent many a year looking after the students in his care. There was something about standing so high, to guide them to a future where the magic at their command would not taint them, that gave him a clear perspective of the world around him. His gaze slowly shifted to the Slytherins, and felt a pang of sorrow. The only students he _couldn't _save tended to find themselves among the Den. Serpents, each and every one of them.

However, he couldn't ignore their silence. It was unusual, to say the least. They were murmuring among themselves, as they usually did, but not one was touching their plate. It was almost like they were..._anticipating _something. Though he was unsure of _what _had drawn the entirety of the Den's unwavering attention. Even Severus, sitting beside him, was not his usual self. He sat at the table, elbows on the wood and chin resting on interlaced fingers. Minerva, on the other hand, looked downright worried.

His gaze shifted to the Pride.

_Ah. I see why she is tense._

Each Lion was scowling. Every. One. Of. Them. Four were missing; Hadrian Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and Ron Weasley. The Lions were angry, and, no amount of probing would rise an answer from the Gryffindor's Matron. Albus suspected it was due to the fact _she _wasn't aware of what was going on with her Lions. Though he knew only one truth; whatever had angered the Pride was something everyone in the Great Hall was picking up on. The Den looked like the snakes they were, reading to strike, while the Nest and Sett regarded the scene with curious intellect and polite interest.

When the four missing Lions entered, he knew why the Pride was outraged.

Albus Dumbledore had seen many things come and go from Hogwarts. He knew of the dangers of Arcadia, a world he loved more than all else, of the magic that sought to destroy if not properly controlled. He had seen what greed for _power _did to someone. It cost him the love of his life as surely as it cost him his sister's life, and it destroyed innocence of a child no one wanted. He had seen what came of power. He had seen war, and the purity it crushed. The Potters. Alice and Frank, too pure to be taken. He had seen countless children brought to their knees, forced to choose between their life and darkness.

Many of them choose darkness.

He never thought Arcadia's Savior, so pure and right, could wear such a look. Those emeralds _dared _everyone to rise against him for what he carried. And it was impossible to miss. Wrapped around the Savior was the last thing he had ever thought to see. Death. Pure death, wrapped in sleek scales and brimming with magic. A lacrimosa, impossibly large. Albus could feel it pulsing with magic from where he sat. The touch of Death before it descended.

Next to him, Severus chocked on his tea. Minerva dropped her cutlery, and shock rippled through the Great Hall as the Boy-Who-Lived crossed over to his table, Death wrapped around him in a liquid embrace, and filled his plate. His three friends, while showing signs of unease, followed his lead and jump started conversation with those around them. The Lions refused to comment, but several of the younger students watched with morbid curiosity.

And Hadrian Potter smiled, expression daring those around him to deny him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author Note**

I must admit, I am pleased to see that everyone is enjoying the story. I've had so many pleasant reviews that it brightened my day. And they also inspired to start the chapter a bit earlier than I planned. I'm also working on another story, De Custodia Sanguinis, so I'm switching between the two. One of the things I really wanted to do was improve my descriptions, so I do tend to focus a bit on them. Every writer has a weak point, and finding it, and improving upon it, is vital.

Also, in regards to a question posed by CynicalOrange, the answer is no. While many writers due add rape into the mix, it is something I cannot do. Any further questions on that front, then send me a PM. I'll do my best to answer that on the sidelines where it won't take up much space.

Being a writer (and a writer is what I am, regardless of this being a fan-fiction), it is my duty to improve my skills. And I am so pleased to have so many people who are watching me develop this despite it being only a few chapters long. So, for all of you who have reviewed, I will say that my next words will be awkward for me. But it must be said.

I _love_ you _all_. Seriously. When I get the nice reviews, it makes me happy. When I get a criticism, and it's written properly with the intent to help me improve, I am most humbled. I'm an American, so there's a lot about English culture I don't know (I've been to England once, and that was for an Art Trip in high school). So I adore you all who have gone out of your way to show your appreciation for my writing.

Read, Enjoy, and _Review!_

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**Rating**: T

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Draco felt his breath hitch. _Hitch!_

He eyed the beauty the Lion was carrying, the massive serpent draped around him, with a gleam in his eyes. The Den was giving him a cold shoulder. The school was shifting with a sense of unease, a sense of _fear _so thick he could _taste _it, but Draco saw an opportunity unfolding. He exchanged looks with his den mates, and saw the same thoughtful look in both Theo and Blaise's eyes. Gray eyes shifted directly to the Boy Wonder's mates, and leaned back in his seat.

Working with Longbottom would kill several brain cells, but, as the doors opened, he knew it was going to be necessary. Granger and Weasley, however...they were the problem he would have to break apart. Like a complicated spell woven in a rune, they sat, unknown, to be studied and discovered. So he sat, and watched, eyes intent, as the Boy-Who-Lived fed the serpent from the palm of his hand, seemingly uncaring to the fangs that scarped his skin with every mouthful.

Draco wasn't sure if he admired the courage, or cursed the younger boy for his stupidity.

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"He's _still _staring at you." Hadrian smiled as he added an ingredient to the potion, and cocked his head to the side. Green irises slid to Hermione, and he caught the flustered look on her face as her gazed darted past him to the Slytherins. A smirk threatened to emerge, but the raven-haired youth merely stirred the potion twice counterclockwise as his bushy-haired friend continued to mutter under her breath. "They're all _staring, _Hadrian. Each and every one of them."_  
_

Behind them, he heard Neville mutter, "And they have been since breakfast."

"Is it really _that _bad?" Hadrian question his friends as he adjusted the massive serpent around his shoulders. Voldemort was uncharacteristically silent, those red gems steadily watching him work. At the front of the class, he could feel Snape watching his every movement. But it wasn't only the Slytherins that watched him. The Lions were attentive to his every movement, a sense of unease and raw anger wrapped within their very aura. "It's Second Year all over again. They don't like being reminded that a parseltongue is in their midst."

_'This generations stupidity astounds me.' _Hadrian blinked, and turned his gaze to the serpent. He was forced to readjust the massive snake when the lower coils slipped against his hips, the pants underneath slipping from the weight dragging them lower than he liked. He unwound part of the coil, allowing Ron to take the ladle from him, and guided the tail so it went around his hip and partly around his thigh. _'Parseltongue is not some blight in Arcadia. It existed before this school was founded. Ignorant fools. Naive in their youth, and foolish in their lack of ambition to uncover the truth...'_

_'Are you sulking?' _The serpent hissed, coils tensing. Hadrian sucked in a breath, but found himself chuckling at the serpent's wordless reply. Hermione was staring at him, a curious tilt to her head, and Ron was pale. Neville continued to work, and Hadrian had a distinct impression that the shy boy was pretending he hadn't heard the sibilant hiss that slipped out of the Chosen's mouth. He turned back to his potion as the Dark Lord hissed, _'Dark Lords do not _sulk, _Potter. It is in your interest to remember that.'_

The Gryffindor's only response was a snort of amusement.

His gaze shifted to the book next to him, his writing mixed into the pages. Notes and page locations, for the most part, though there were words of caution he had added after witnessing disaster from Neville's hands. Knowing what _not _to put in a potion was far more important than knowing what _should _go into it. He pretended he didn't notice the serpent's interest in the fact the page they were on, detailing several medical potions, was far more worn than those around him. Given it being an older addition, the newest book resting partly under it, he knew the man-now-snake was interested.

He could feel the curiosity in the backdrops of his mind. As odd as it sounded.

By the time class was coming to an end, Snape's voice rang out. "Potter, remain behind."

Hadrian sighed. After gathering his supplies, and a few murmured words to his friends, he turned to his Potions Professor. The older man was regarding him with narrowed eyes. The onyx abyss glimmering in contemplation, a look the raven-haired youth knew all _too_ well. He was not expecting, however, for his professor to absently gesture to the stairs leading into his office. He didn't hesitate to enter, but his guard rose as the door closed behind him.

"Take a seat, Potter." The professor murmured from somewhere behind him. Hadrian's gaze swept across the room, and he located the seat near the fireplace. He lowered himself into the seat, Voldemort's coils loosening until he was strewn across both boy and seat. Neither missed the slight tilt of Snape's head, nor the look in those eyes. They made him...uncomfortable.

_It's almost like he can...see into me. _The thought was a disturbing one, and, by the way those onyx eyes narrowed, he knew Snape would agree with the thought if he _could _read minds. Not that he actually could, considering he had never heard of such a thing. _Or maybe it isn't listed in most books in the school. I'll have to ask Hermione._

His professor sat in the chair across from him, and rested his arms across the armrests. For a long while, the man said nothing. Merely stared. Like the rest of his House, he _stared. _Hadrian shifted in his seat, feeling oddly out of place, and felt the slight warmth of Voldemort's head and neck graze his cheek. The scales scraped his skin, rough but a welcome distraction from those eyes. When his gaze shifted from Snape to find red eyes boring, unblinking, at him.

_'Not you too!' _He gaped at the snake, and he heard his professor's sharp intake of breath. Green darted to black, and he offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Professor. I suppose it's a bit...uncomfortable to hear-"

"Nonsense." Snape cut in, and narrowed his eyes. The look was as cutting as usual, but it held a different sort of attention. A different sort of power. It was unnerving to have his most despised professor staring him down like he was some new species of creature recently discovered. Or a new ingredient for a potion. "Have you forgotten that Slytherin is represented by a serpent, Potter? It is a rare privilege to hear the native tongue of my House's founder. Even if it comes form a _Potter, _a _Lion, _of all things."

"A backhanded compliment?" Hadrian cocked his head to the side, and ran a hand through his bangs with a sigh. He met his professor's eyes as he said, "It's a rare day to get a _compliment _out of you Snape. So what exactly do you need? I highly doubt this is a social call."

"How astute of you, Potter." The man drawled, eyes narrowing. Yet he remained silent after, simply staring, but Hadrian had a feeling the older man was gathering his thoughts. He could _almost _see the gears of that mind turning, words falling into place before spoken, and possible retorts likely to come after. When the professor spoke, his tone was calm, but there was a gleam in his eyes as he said, "But you are correct. A _most _unusual achievement. Do keep yourself from an enlarged ego. It's bad enough as it is."

Hadrian scowled, but remained silent as his professor continued, "However, I do wonder why the entirety of your House, excluding Longbottom, Weasley, and Granger, are ignoring you."

"I don't see how that concerns you, sir." He replied evenly, eyes narrowing as his professor scoffed. "Of course it has to do with me, you impudent child."

Hadrian frowned.

He didn't see how any of this had to do with the dour Potions Master.

As if reading his mind, Snape hissed under his breath, a sharp air of irritation, and said, "You come into Hogwarts, carrying the most dangerous creature known to _mankind _around your shoulders, and your own Head hasn't even approached you today. Given the fact that the serpent is _my _House's sigil, and parseltongue _my _House's tongue..._it has everything to do with me."_

Hadrian paled.

The looks from the Slytherins. The way they were _staring _all day...

_'Dense, aren't you?' _His gaze snapped to the red eyes boring into him, and he could see the amusement gleaming in them as clearly as he could feel it brushing against his senses. He scowled at the snake, and nearly jumped when Snape continued onward. "Did you know parseltongue is a trait exclusively belonging to Slytherin. Not once, in the history of Hogwarts, had _any _student possessing that power been in any House other than Slytherin."

"So why bring this up _now _instead of second year?"

A silence settled, and he could see the narrowed obsidian eyes darkening in irritation. When Snape spoke, his voice was hushed, a near whisper. The man regarded him in silence, but, after a moment, relaxed into his seat. Professor Snape's lips curled into a smirk as he murmured, "Be warned, Potter, that I, and the rest of my House, are watching."

Snape leaned in, arms draped over knees, as he added, "And we don't take kindly to others spiriting away what is ours."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author Note**

It's been a very long while since I updated. I had a rather hard time writing this chapter, and, as it is, figuring out which way to go with the story, given this idea isn't exactly _new, _makes writing this a bit hard. As of yet, I do hope it differs from the others (I've only read a few), and I have greatly enjoyed the reviews I have received up to now. However, I do know some things are a bit...rough...but I've done my best with it. I can't really force anything else out, or anything new, for this chapter without loosing some of the little bits that I enjoyed writing.

Also, I do like switching between POVs. Though I do intend to keep it largely in Hadrian's POV, but I do hope to get everyone's input on the other POVS that will show up. Or anyone's thoughts on the second POV in this chapter. Hopefully I did well writing it, though that is one character I am not accustomed to writing.

Read, Enjoy, and _Review!_

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**Rating**: T

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_Spirited away!?_

Hadrian swept down the hall, promptly ignoring the way the students scattered, and ignored the infuriated voice snapping at him from behind. A small Hufflepuff backed herself against a wall as he passed, and her eyes widened as she glanced at him, and then behind him. Fearful eyes. The exact opposite of a dour Potions Master, those eyes. What was Snape thinking, making such a rather obvious, not to mention _blunt, _statement. As he whirled down the next corridor, a scowl working its way onto his face, he tried to push the Potions Master from his head.

_Watching? They're always watching!_

Did Snape honestly think that, just because he was a Lion, that people would take less notice of him? Every year, attention is drawn towards him. Someone was always watching. Always. Anyone with half a brain could see that. Even if carrying a poisonous snake, let alone _Volde-bloody-mort, _around his shoulders didn't drawn the attention of the students, the staff, and the press...then something else would. Not that this _wasn't _drawing _more _attention; he knew that the curious looks, the admiration, was unlikely to ever cease.

Even as he passed Sybil, the seer tripping over the hem of her robes, a trail of angry hisses and wide, gazes filled with open hostility and fear followed the wake of his fury. He ignored both as he saw Dumbledore coming his way, eyes worried. Hadrian eyes narrowed, but he slowed regardless. Barely a moment passed before Voldemort's massive form circled his legs, angry hisses spewing from his mouth, but the youth paid the words no heed.

"Headmaster." He stated calmly as Dumbledore came to a stop in front of him. Dumbledore eyed the snake, and his gaze slowly came up to his as he asked, "If I might inquire as to what the...lacrimosa is saying?"

"He's berating me for dismissing myself in the middle of a conversation with Snape." He answered automatically, eyes glinting as his Headmaster's eyebrows vanished in his hairline. The diamond-shaped head hit his hand, and he let out an uneven breath as he knelt. He gathered the Dark Lord into his arms, and rose. It was a matter of seconds before the serpent was wound around him, the coils constricting ever-so-slightly in reprimand, and he turned his gaze to Dumbledore as the man said, "I do hope you did so for good reason, my boy. Professor Snape is a stern man, and he doesn't take such things in light."

_So I noticed. _Yet Hadrian continued to focus on the aged man before him, and felt a sliver of unease as those twinkling blue eyes regarded him in silence. It was a look he had seen countless times in the last four years, and he knew he would see it countless times during the course of his fifth year at Hogwarts. Then the elderly man smiled, and, much to Hadrian's horror, asked, "What's his name?"

"Name?"

Dumbledore smiled, a jovial look on his face, as he elaborated. "Your lacrimosa. Surely he has a name."

_'Don't you _dare _pick anything crude, boy!' _Voldemort hissed, but Hadrian ignored him. He swallowed, and, mind whirling, tried to come up with _anything _that he could use. He absently placed his hand on the agitated serpent's head, and prayed to _Salazar _that the snappish Dark Lord would not kill him. Names flew, but only one stuck in his mind. One that came, and pestered him due to Dudley and his friends demeaning an excellent movie. He met his Headmaster's gaze, and shrugged as he said, "Well, of _course _he has a name, Headmaster. Every serpent has one, I reckon."

Dumbledore hummed in response, and offered a smile to encourage him.

_Don't kill me. Please. Please, don't kill me. _

Hadrian twirled the braid around his hand. A smile crept onto his face. An irrational desire to laugh bubbled in his chest as he said. "His name, Headmaster, is Monty."

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"Granger!" Hermione glanced up from her book to see Zabini, tall and dark, gliding towards her table. She blinked in confusion as her gaze darted to the two boys she was sitting with, one which was as curious as her and the other glaring. Her gaze returned to the Italian when he pulled up a chair across from her, and sat himself at their table with an air of dramatic flare. "I _honestly _thought I wasn't _ever_ going to catch up with you!"

"Can I...help you?" The Italian chuckled. Blaise Zabini, fifth year Slytherin, smirked. Hermione blinked in confusion, and a sense of unease crept along her spine as he reclined in the seat as if he had been sitting with them since their first year. A moment passed before the Slytherin's teeth showed as he flashed a sharp grin, and his tone was casual as he said, "Most certainly, Granger."

As the Slytherin boy dug through his bag as he answered, "I'm having a bit of trouble with the history essay we were assigned, and, well, you _know _how Binns can be."

Next to her, Ron gaped. Hermione was inclined to join him, but soothed herself as she replied, "I can see how many students are displeased with being assigned homework on the first day of class, yes. Though I am certain there is more than _that _for this unexpected...greeting to take place."

Zabini grinned, and slid his notebook across the table. "I'm afraid that I had a bit of an issue keeping up in class today. For some rather obvious reasons."

"You fell asleep." Hermione noted, and the dark-skinned boy shrugged. One shoulder lifted, and he swept his bangs out of his face as he admitted, "Guilty as charged! I also know that you happen to be one of the very few people who actually can manage to stay awake during the class, and I overheard some of the other students saying something about a project for History. A big one."

"Are we seriously doing this?" Ron cut in, red-faced, as Neville shifted uneasily in his seat. "Are we _seriously _conversing with a snake?"

"Ronald!" Hermione swatted his arm, eyes narrowing when his mouth opened. Across from her, she sensed the Italian's magic curl. On her other side, Neville quickly cut in with practiced ease. Hermione cast a soft smile to the shy boy and turned her attention back to Ron, her voice coming out low, sharp, and nearly a hiss, "What is _wrong _with you, Ron? He's just asking for a bit of help on an assignment we're _all _having to do _on the first day back!"_

"He's a _snake!"_

Hermione's eyes narrowed. Ron shrank away from her, eyes wide and hands coming up in defense as she snapped, "Slytherin or not, Ronald Weasley, our studies are _not _to be taken _lightly. _Our grades determine how well we will do in the future!"

"He's a snake!"

Her wand dropped into her hand and she pointed it at him as she snapped, "I won't have you sabotaging a student's will to improve their chances of success. I won't stand for it in any _other _House, and I will _not_ stand for it here."

Hermione turned around in her seat. Across from her, Zabini regarded her with a raised eyebrow. His gaze slid from her face to her hand and the wand held in it before returning to her face. He blinked, dark eyes shifting with unknown thoughts. "Of all the things I expected to hear, that was not it. My thanks, Granger."

She returned his words with a sharp nod, and she started when a chair scraped across the ground. Nott, ever silent, dropped into the seat. Slytherin Mask in place, the brunette regarded them in silence. Ron spluttered in outrage, unable to form a coherent thought, as the Slytherin made himself at home at their table. Hermione blinked at the quiet Slytherin, and her gaze slowly shifted to the grinning Zabini.

_By the cosmos, what is going on here? _Nott didn't speak, but Zabini propelled the conversation forward as he pushed them directly into the assignment. She took in his handwriting when he handed her his notes, and she flipped through the pages, eyeing the detailed lines of his penmanship and details the Slytherin gathered before falling to sleep, and felt a bubble of hysteria building in her. Someone _other _than Hadrian was able to stay awake for more than fifteen minutes in Binns's class? Other than herself, Hermione didn't know many people, Ravenclaw included, who would stay away the entire class. How _Hadrian _managed was a mystery.

"...so I'm afraid I have to get back in the system." She blinked, and looked up from his notes. He was idly conversing with Neville, the shy Gryffindor nodding in what she thought was understanding. When Neville, nervousness aside, spoke, she blinked. "I often have the same problem. I get caught up in my own studies that I...overlook other areas of importance. Herbology often pushes everything else to the back of my mind."

_Ah. I see. _She handed Zabini his notes back, and quickly copied the rest he would need from hers. He nodded in thanks when he took them from her, and, Nott, who had previously remained silent, asked, rather bluntly, "What the fuck is up with Potter?"

Hermione gaped as Zabini elbowed his fellow Slytherin. The smaller boy shot a dark look at the Italian, but didn't amend his statement. Zabini offered a lopsided smirk, more of a grin than a smirk, as he said, "Ignore Theo. He's trying to get his head around the new addition to our school. A common process shared by all, I think. Or maybe it's just me..."

"Hadrian's lacrimosa." Hermione confirmed. It wasn't a question. She felt Ron shudder, and she patted his arm as she said, "It was a surprise for all of us when he arrived in our Common Room with him. No one was expecting it. Professors and Headmaster included."

_What do they want? _Hermione knew the other Lions were boiling with ire, a sense of fury radiating from them. Despite the slow conversation, and the intense looks and attention from the two serpents, she could feel several others glaring at her back. She ignored it in favor of the puzzle presented, and took Nott's notebook from him when he offered it. Her gaze darted over the top of the book with the _third _snake made an appearance. One that had Ron sputtering in sharp disbelief. Her own brows furrowed in confusion as the aloof Malfoy lounged in his seat, one arm folded over the back of his seat, but he made no comment.

_Why are they interested? What are they thinking? Planning? What do they want?_

"Granger, it is quite rude to stare." Malfoy drawled after several long minutes, and Hermione frowned. One pale eyebrow arched when her gaze didn't waver, and Ron, as aware of her moods as anyone in the Pride, slowly shifted away as Hermione said, "I'm merely trying to understand the source of your sudden, and rather illogical, interest in us, Malfoy. I can't quite seem to find a reason why, other than the lacrimosa."

"What? No inter-House unity?" Zabini asked, dark eyes alight with some kind of inner mirth.

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He was going to _die_.

_'Monty, Potter?!' _Hadrian grimaced. _'Monty!?'_

The raven-haired boy dunked into the library. Dumbledore walked behind him, a few books tucked in hand, but those twinkling blue eyes were focused on the snake. Every time he glanced at the elderly man, those blue eyes were always directed at him and Voldemort. Yet he said nothing. Merely walked beside them, asking innocent questions every so often. As he slipped away from the Headmaster, Voldemort hissed, _'Bloody suspicious old coot. Nothing slips past him unnoticed.'_

"You talk like he's aware." Hadrian muttered, and the coils around his shoulders tightened. _'It is possible.'_

A question was on the tip of his tongue when he stopped, abruptly, in front of his friends' table. Hermione was, as always, going with whatever was tossed her way. Even if it meant conversing with green-tied students, books sprawled out across the table between them, she plowed forward. Neville was frowning lightly, but idly moving forward in the direction the sole female in the group pushed them in. Ron, however, _Ron..._

_'If the boy gets any more color, he's likely to explode.' _Voldemort hissed. Hadrian blinked, and dropped a hand on the redhead's shoulder. Ron's gaze snapped up to him, and, grimacing at the snake, said, "We've been invaded, mate."

_'Thank you for stating the obvious, you worthless wizard.' _Voldemort hissed, and Hadrian shook his head as he slowly sat down. "I can see as much. Though I don't see any harm in a study session. Ravenclaw mingles with the other Houses, do they not?"

Ron snorted, but declined to answered.

Hadrian eased the massive serpent off of him, and Voldemort's body, a myriad of colors, found itself sprawled across the table. Hermione moved her current text out of the way before propping the book against the snake's side, an action that drew a dissatisfied hiss from the irradiated Dark Lord. Ron stared. Neville tentatively worked around the looping coils as the Slytherins took in the form before them.

"You're ticking, Hadrian." Hermione stated calmly as she copied notes from her book, and the green-eyed teen frowned.

"I was accused of being _spirited __away, _Hermes." He pulled his own books from the bag, and turned his gaze on the three Slytherins across from him as he asked, "And I did not expect to find a group of serpents at the table. However, given our new addition, I can't say I'm surprised."

Three sets of eyebrows arched, and the Slytherins smirked. Hadrian sighed, and cocked his head to the side as he asked, "And what reasons do you have to be here other than falling asleep in History. Hermes is intelligent, yes, but last I checked...none of you were all that willing to _talk _to her."

"She's enlightening company, Potter." Zabini said. "Do you really have so little _faith _in us?"

"Is it obvious?"

Malfoy drew their attention has he shifted in his seat, and he rested his elbows on his knees as he said, "Honestly, Potty, do use your head. Serpents or not, we do take the time out of our busy lives to mingle. Even with _Lions_, as it is."

Hadrian glanced at the massive serpent as Snape's words came to mind. "Well, if _mingling _is what you want to do, than I suggest we dance."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author Note**

It has been _sooo _long since I updated this. And I'm terribly sorry about that. This chapter is longer than a few in the story, but it is shorter than the last one. I'm having a bit of a block, and trying to figure everything out, with _two _other stories and all of my homework in college, gives me a bit of trouble. Not to mention one of the classes is a Creative Writing classes, so I'm also working on original creative works in poetry and writing. It makes everything all the harder, but I'm use to it.

So this is the newest chapter. It's shorter. I couldn't really think of anything _else _to put into it, and, sadly, it may be a bit of the 'not so interesting, but mildly amusing to read' section. I think. Hopefully. I'm rambling. Anyway, there's another POV in here. Like usual, I generally try to add one _new _perspective for each chapter, so I'm not sure if it's all that well. So I hope you all can give me your input, and I look forward to hearing from all of you.

Read, Enjoy, and _Review!_

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**Rating**: T

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There were times when he questioned his sanity. There really was.

He hadn't really expected the Slytherins to take up his proposition, but, as he walked to the Great Hall the following morning, he was surprised to find Malfoy, among several others, waiting for him. The blonde was leaning against the wall next to the Great Hall's doors, one ankle crossed over the other, while Nott, Blaise, and Parkinson held a murmured conversation with one another. It halted when he closed in on them, and Ron, groggy, groaned when he realized who, exactly, was waiting from them. It was odd, true, but Hadrian merely offered a sharp smile of his own as he stopped by them.

"Waiting up for us, are you?" Malfoy's brow arched at the question, and, after a moment in silence, the blonde answered, "It is difficult to _tango, _Potty, if we don't _mingle."_

"Your words, not ours." Zabini offered, and Parkinson smirked. Nott looked rather impassive to the entire thing. Hermione blinked. Hadrian glanced at her when her magic spiked, and he took note of the narrowed, honey-brown eyes staring down the group of snakes standing in front of them. Voldemort, trailing after them, knocked his head against his leg, and offered a sharp hiss._ 'Ah, the tango. Quite a dance, that. Perhaps too difficult for a _lion _to keep up with._'

The diamond-shaped head butted his palm, and he scratched the scales with a thoughtful hum. His gaze swept over the group before settling on Malfoy, and, with a sharp smile of his own, asked, "Your table or mine?"

"Hadrian!" Ron sputtered, and wavered wildly at the Slytherins as he said, "You _can't _be offering them a seat at _our _table!"

"I have to agree on this, Hadrian." Hermione murmured, eyes narrowed. The tension mounted, a heavy veil that lingered between them that was as tangible as it was obvious. Hadrian glanced between his two friends, and asked, calmly, "So you would prefer I take back my words when I offered to mingle? To _dance, _as I said."

He caught her eyes, and watched as she worried her lip. Her gaze flickered between him and the four Slytherins standing across from them. Then at Ron, who was gaping in disbelief. After a moment, she sighed. Ron, flushed still, deflated when he turned Hadrian gaze shifted fully onto him. "Of, bloody hell! Fine. _Fine. _They can sit with us, but that doesn't bloody mean I have to _like _it."

"Not at all." Hadrian agreed, and then, as an afterthought, said, "Though it might be the other way around. I'd hate to make them feel out of place at a table full of lions."

"Are you calling us _cowards, _Potter?" Parkinson asked, and he grinned. "And if I am?"

"We're not _afraid _of a bunch of lions." Malfoy raised a hand, stilling his friends, and, after a moment, said, "We'll sit with you for breakfast, and you'll sit with us for dinner. A fair trade, I believe. Wouldn't you agree, Potty?"

"It'll do." Hadrian brushed past them after, Voldemort around his shoulders, and entered the Great Hall. A moment later, Malfoy fell into step, walking at his side, and the hushed silence, the confusion, descended seconds after. He gestured to Neville, who blinked in response, but had the others making room at their table. Many of his fellow lions were glaring, and others staring, as Hermione and Ron, with the other three at their side, made themselves comfortable. Cold scales scrapped his cheek, and, in his ear, the Dark Lord hissed, _'My, my, Boy Wonder. I would have never thought someone like _you _would know how to play this game. How...surprising.'_

"That just shows how little you really know, doesn't it?" Hadrian murmured, voice low, and red eyes narrowed angrily in response.

"Oi!" His gaze shifted to the twins as they squeezed their way in, identical grins appearing on their face. They made themselves comfortable, sitting on the other side and in the middle, and Hadrian smiled. Fred and George, sitting across from him, merely raised their brows and asked, "What's the occasion? Never thought to see a Slytherin at our table, let alone _four _of them!"

"I believe we're going for 'House Unity,'" Zabini offered as he filled his plate. He glanced up, dark eyes alight with something close to mischief, and, with a sly smile, the tanned boy added, "It'll be hard for Draco and Potter to _tango _if our Houses are _constantly _at each others throats."

Dean and Seamus chocked on their juice, faces glowing, and Neville gaped. His fork clattered to the plate. Ron was sputtering in outrage, and Hermione had a distinctly red _glow _that arched over her cheeks. Hadrian blinked, and, turning his gaze to the blonde next to him, asked, "Seems like our secrets out, isn't it?"

Malfoy arched an eyebrow. "A secret has to exist for it to escape, Potty. Our childhood antics don't apply."

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Luna Lovegood, Ravenclaw fourth year, watched the odd group of students leave the Great Hall.

Slytherin. Gryffindor. An odd mixture of students from the Pride and Den, respectively, and she wasn't sure what the two groups, bunched together, could be called. Not to mention the obvious conflicts the two groups have had since their first year. She may have not been there when it started, but she knew much of what happened. As far as she knew, _everyone _was aware of the tension between the Slytherins and Gryffindors. The ones in their fifth year was said to be even worse. So why the sudden mingling in public?

It was a question she filed away to ask the rest of the Nest. Surely someone would have an idea on what to call the willing intermingling of a snake and lion.

She set down her magazine, and slipped her wand into her hair behind her ear for safe keeping. She knew what everyone around her was thinking.

She had seen their looks. Those students were stepping on toes, sitting together like they were. She wasn't sure why, really, when Slytherin often mingled with Ravenclaw. Perhaps it was because of the differences between the two Houses? The history between them, and the misconceptions both grew like mold on fruit left in the cold for too long. Perhaps she should approach the raven-haired snake-whisperer and offer a few suggestions on how to ease everyone's tensions? To smooth over the sharp nails the nargles were intent on sinking into his brain.

Or how to get those small, gleefully-laughing imps away from him. They followed, small and skittering across the ground, with dark intent.

Yes, she would definitely have to talk to him.

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"You can't be serious."

Hadrian sighed, and turned his gaze to his friends. Ron and Hermione were openly staring at him, and, as he watched the Slytherins vanished around the bend, he raised a brow. His gaze slowly shifted to his two friends, and, after several long minutes of silence, he smiled. It was odd, how they weren't taking his new turn of interest as seriously as they usually did. When Ron's eyes narrowed, he said, "Look at it this way. They're wanting to get close. For obvious reasons, at that. So what better way to keep an eye on them than by _letting _them get close? To be honest, I'd rather not get a nasty surprise from them at a distance."

"Snape, right?" Ron asked, the gears already turning. Hadrian smiled. Hermione blinked, and, as they walked away, he knew her well enough that she was turning over any information she held and looking for answers. After several seconds, she said, "You did say that he thought you had been spirited away. An interesting accusation, I'd say. Whatever gave him _that _thought, anyway?"

"I'm a parselmouth." Hadrian reminded her, softly, and she frowned. She gestured to the three of them as she asked, "Well, then why didn't he do something about it during our second year? I was petrified. Ron knocked unconscious in the Chamber of Secrets. And you killed an ancient basilisk. So why wait until _now _to bring it up?"

"I asked him the same thing."

Ron paused, and then turned to look at him. "It's a game, right?"

"What?"

"All of _this! _The Slytherins mingling with us. Snape taking a new interest in you. It's a _game _they're playing!" The redhead grinned, blue eyes flashing with excitement, and Hadrian smiled. He was catching up. Hermione, blinking owlishly, was still before her eyes slowly widened. Hadrian felt her gaze cut into him, and her voice was sharp, low but sharp, as she said, "You're playing _their _game?! You're not a snake, Hadrian!"

"I could have been." He remarked, and ran a finger down the Dark Lord's scales. The serpent had stopped moving, head next to his ear, grazing the soft skin, as Hermione asked, at the same moment as Voldemort, with a certain amount of horror and disbelief as they entered the next hallway and made their way upstairs.

"What do you mean?"

_'Could have been?!' _

Hadrian hummed under his breath as they made their way past the library's third floor entrance, thankful for a free first period. He kept his tone light as he said, "Yes, I could have been. That was the Sorting Hat's first choice, actually. Didn't I tell you that? Anyway, it was rather determined that I go into Slytherin, but I was rather angry with Malfoy. So I chose Gryffindor instead."

"To spite him?"

"Partially."

They fell to silence, and Voldemort, still wound around his shoulders, was tensing and relaxing his coils. The steady pressure was something he was getting use to, despite the near death-by-strangulation for naming him _Monty, _and it wasn't long before they found themselves in Gryffindor. The common room was empty, for the most part, and the duo took their seats next to the hearth. He knew, as he sat there, that his two friends were slowly working out his words.

And the meaning behind them.

Images of the Dursleys came to mind. The steady thrum of pain lingering under his skin sharpened, and, with a causal brush of his magic, felt it sooth and melt into the background of his mind. The thoughts shifted to the countless days, the years, of having to outsmart Dudley and his gang. Of being chased through Little Surrey, and the constant need for an open eye, and an open ear, in relation to his aunt and uncle. Bargaining never occurred, but outmaneuvering them was something else entirely. It was _easy _to get one over them, and, while the repercussions for it were often painful, the frustration that came as a result was something he enjoyed.

Not to mention the entire event of blowing up Aunt Marge. The memory brought a sharp smile to his face.

_The woman deserved it. _He blinked when he felt the coils around him tighten, and turned his gaze to the red eyes staring intently at his face. Voldemort lifted himself up, a long neck swaying side to side, and those red, red eyes continued to regard him. When the Dark Lord spoke, his words were calm. _'You could be a Slytherin, and yet you went to the opposing House. Bad impressions. Family ties. A manner of different things influence your decision. Do you regret your choice?'_

Did he?

Hadrian, relaxed and observant, turned the question over. By being a Gryffindor, he became friends with several students. He found a new home, one where he could be himself, to a certain degree, without fear of punishment for gifts he was born with. However, in the same way, he was also held down due to a title for something he couldn't even remember doing. Killing the Dark Lord. Banishing him, really, but essentially the same thing. Gryffindor was warm. It was friendly. There weren't power plays, and everyone was up front and brutal about whatever they had a problem with. But Slytherin?

He had seen glimpses of that House, and the life the students' lead. Both in his second year, once by sneaking inside to spy and another by following Tom Riddle, the memory of him, during restless nights. He could recall the power plays he had witnessed, and the way the students in there admired the teenage Riddle. While they were craft, and never direct, their loyalty...was unwavering. It wasn't like that in Gryffindor, and he knew _that _from experience. How often have his own Housemates turned their backs on him when he did something they didn't approve of?

Did he regret his choice?

In the end, he offered no answer.


End file.
